Jumping up and down, holding up her hand “Can I start one please? Can I, huh?”
The Quest of Sir Jack
**A coward craven was Sir Jack
Quite yellow through and through.
But maidens fair wished more than words
When Jack would come to woo.
Thought he “Perhaps on quest I’ll go
And trophies back I’ll bring.
It needn’t be a dragon large.
Wait! A troll’s the thing!”**
His morning brightened as he rode
Into the forest bleak
The clouds above were wet with rain
As if the troll they’d seek
His horse didst trip and fall
and break its ickle leg.
And Jackie? Not much better off;
he broke his last full keg.
His brain went reeling as he struck
A rock beside the trail
Into a dismal dream he dropped
And downward he did flail
A few hours later a troll passed by
And drooled and hungered as he smacked his lips
And poor sir Jack in his wayward state
Was fried into Jack steak tips.
When Jack awoke from frightful dream
he heard a sound from Hell –
it was a maiden’s shrill high scream!
No, 'twas poor Jack himself.
“I do not want the moniker:
some ‘Jack anonymous.’
But Troll’s too lofty game,” said Jack
the pusillanimous.
He set his sights down lower still,
for prize to take back home,
when he a cunning scheme did make
to slay a garden gnome.